


1.16 Nether Update Experience

by goosebxrry



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, THE NETHER UPDATE’S HERE, Whump, and grian is not, and then this happens, anyway enjoy, anyway xisumas good at nethering because hes a strider now, anyway yeah this was totally something that was gonna happen, because hes too excited to actually bother looking at the new features, grisuma - Freeform, nope - Freeform, you think i could pass up the opportunity to make grian suffer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goosebxrry/pseuds/goosebxrry
Summary: Grian’s excited to explore the Nether. Maybe a little too excited— too excited to check the new features page, at least.
Relationships: Charles | Grian/Xisumavoid
Comments: 5
Kudos: 262





	1.16 Nether Update Experience

**Author's Note:**

> shxidhcujdyd im so happy with how the update came out and all the hermits? already have full netherite armour and gear?? ??????
> 
> anyway yes. whump because thats my fav thing to write and grisuma bc its one of my favourite ships
> 
> (speaking of ships dont ship real ppl minecraft personas only)
> 
> anyway can you tell i had fun writing this? go have fun reading it

With the Nether update here, Grian wasn’t willing to wait. If he were being smart about this, he would’ve done a bit of research before hopping through the portal and flying into new territory.

But he didn’t.

So now he was gliding through the red mist of the Crimson Forest, admiring the landscape and getting completely lost. An animal caught his eye and he swerved to land on top of a mushroom.

It looked like a pig, but it had tusks. Maybe a wild boar, something that he’d heard of in tales of different worlds— except this one was in the Nether. It made eye contact and snorted at him, it’s tail lashing. He was glad he wasn’t on the same level as it.

After the short break he flew off again, wanting to continue exploring.

Soon he found himself in the Basalt Deltas, the Soul Sand Valleys, then the Nether Wastes— and as he was nearing the start of another Crimson Forest he landed, his wings sore and his rocket supply running low. He started to just walk, eyes wide with wonder at how alive the Nether was. The way the vines seemed to be sentient, the way the grass swayed without wind— it would have been creepy if it weren’t so beautiful.

He dropped his ender chest, opening it to grab more rockets, completely oblivious to the danger he was putting himself in. As it if wasn’t enough that he’d forgotten his gold— this is why you always do your research.

And then an arrow hit the stem of the tree— or, was it a mushroom? —next to him, narrowly avoiding his arm. He spun around with a yelp, drawing his weapon.

Piglins.

He’d seen zombified piglins already, the mobs familiar to him only because of their shocking similarity to the suddenly missing zombie pigman, and they were friendly.

But these weren’t zombified piglins. No, living piglins weren’t kind. Before he could even grab his shield to block it, an arrow sunk into the exposed flesh of his arm. He bit back a yell, not wanting to attract more of the hostile creatures.

He should’ve known, the Nether had always been dangerous, this didn’t change anything— He blocked another arrow, this time managing to react in time —how could he have been so stupid? And now he was entirely on his own.

He stopped guarding himself for just a moment, swinging his sword and barely getting a slice in before having to retreat to avoid an arrow in the chest. Why were they attacking him? He hadn’t stolen anything, he hadn’t looked at them— he hadn’t even mined any gold!

Gold. Gold!

Grian fumbled for his supply of golden carrots before throwing at least six to the ground between them.

The reaction was immediate. The crossbow was dropped to a passive position and the piglin bent down to grab the carrot, sniffing it, trailing it’s hoof over the thin plate of precious metal that was painted over the vegetable for boosted regeneration. Grian let his guard down, exhaling.

Then the piglin pocketed it and dropped back to the previous hostility, firing an arrow. His friends did the same. Grian screamed as his leg and arm burned, shafts poking out from his skin like porcupine quills.

This was bad. This was very, very, bad.

But things got worse. He was backing up without looking, searching for an escape, when a hot spike of pain erupted from his side and he screamed again, launched upwards, head hitting the ceiling of the mushroom tree and making his vision spin when he landed and hurried to his feet.

The hoglin snorted loudly, temporarily distracting the piglins as they decided who to attack. This was his chance.

He tried to run away, but the forest was dense and the equivalent of leaves were much harder to break. He found himself cornered inside a different mushroom’s shell, trying to make himself smaller to hide beneath his shield. He felt an arrow graze his arm, and then he heard the sound of pigs squealing.

He opened his eyes. A somewhat familiar sight, red armour and a diamond blade, was in front of him, and his savior was cutting the hoglin down to porkchops. It disappeared in a puff of smoke. The Piglin was next.

And soon the previous threats were gone. But who was the other player?

The figure’s face was dark, but Grian could see purple eyes peeking through a red mask, as if they were glowing. A chill dropped down his spine.

“Ex?” He whimpered the name, terrified of the answer. Was he going to be saved, just to die to someone else’s hands?

“What? Oh. Oh! No, Grian, it’s me,“ The person ripped off their helmet to reveal soft lavender freckles and messy brown hair, pulled back into a short ponytail.

Xisuma. Not his twin brother. Thank Notch.

“What’re you thinking, all the way out here, all alone! You’re not even wearing any gold!” A short pause. “And is that your enderchest?”

Grian blinked slowly, trying to process the words— no gold? Was he supposed to be wearing gold? Xisuma just sighed, the axolotl-esque appendages that were now connected to his head flattening a little so he could put his helmet back on.

Grian shifted his weight to stand, but all he got was a sharp twinge as his leg reminded him of what had happened. Xisuma cautiously hooked an arm under his knees and wrapped the other around his back, standing back up with the added weight.

“You really should be more careful,” He said. The soft glow of a shroomlight hit the helmet and Grian recognized that he was meant to be a strider— the passive mob was quickly becoming his favourite.

Xisuma’s skin was warmer than usual, his armour was a soft red with little grey speckles and his gills (if that’s what they were) had the same soft peach colour as the lava-inhabiting mobs. He even had a tail, which was currently dragging against the soft nylium floor.

“So, Stridersuma, huh?” Grian’s words were a little slurred from blood loss and pain, but he was understandable. Xisuma smiled a little under the helmet, nodding.

“It’s a little strange. Never felt so cold before in a rainforest during June.” He added. They neared a cliff edge and Xisuma hopped off, wings unfurling as he glided back towards a portal, unable to boost as both his hands were occupied holding Grian.

He wanted to be quick, he wanted the injured hermit in his arms to be back in the Overworld, but he needed to play this carefully.

If he miscalculated a turn and hit a wall, they would both drop into the lava below and burn. If he went too close to one of the many Crimson Forests surrounding them, piglins would see them without any gold on them— or rather, just Grian without any gold on him —and attack.

Not to mention the risk of accidentally looking at an enderman.

Grian was getting worryingly quiet, too. Xisuma dropped to a ledge, knowing the tunnel back to his portal was somewhere around here. It had been pure chance, him stumbling across Grian, but he didn’t want to imagine what would’ve become say it hadn’t happened.

“Grian, I know you’re sleepy, but stay with me, alright?” He was speaking quietly, but Grian was close enough to hear. His eyes fluttered open again and he mumbled something, but Xisuma couldn’t make out a single word.

Xisuma asked Grian simple questions to keep him responding for the rest of his search, things like ‘What biome is your base in?’ or ‘How’s the barge doing?’

And for a while, it worked. He received mostly incoherent answers, but he figured that was better than nothing.

But after the sixth or seventh one, Xisuma’s question got only silence in return. He jostled Grian a little, a vain attempt to reconnect him and his consciousness, but it failed. He swore under his breath and sped up, squinting at the netherrack. Why did it have to look so horribly chaotic? He would never find the entrance at this rate.

But the Minecraft Gods must have felt kind, because almost immediately afterwards he found the tunnel.

And he broke into a run.

Three horribly quiet minutes passed, and finally he reached the portal. If Grian died, he would respawn— but not for a few days. He needed time to physically heal, of course, and with his injuries? They were looking at at least a week, at most? A week and a half.

Once they were back in the overworld Xisuma ran to his storage room, dropping Grian on a spare bed he had lying around in some shulker and running to get potions.

After he returned he carefully lifted Grian’s head, pouring a regeneration potion down his throat, careful not to let him choke. His breathing evened out a little and his heartbeat strengthened ever so slightly.

Then he poured healing potion on the wounds and removed the arrows, watching as the skin closed up and left behind nothing but a small scar.

Xisuma breathed out softly, unaware he had been holding his breath in the first place.

Grian probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but he was alive, by some miracle. And for a moment Xisuma just sat there, on the floor of his base, letting himself calm down. Adrenaline still gushed through his veins despite the situation being under control.

A minute passed, maybe two. Xisuma shakily reached up with one hand to squeeze Grian’s, fingers trailing up towards Grian’s wrist to feel his heartbeat, as if to reassure himself that the builder was alive. His other hand reached down to his belt to grab his communicator.

Make sure you’re careful in the Nether when you decide to explore, don’t open chests around piglins  
And don’t forget your gold accessories! Make sure they’re visable enough to be noticed from far away.

At that, he glanced down at his wrist guards. Each had been painted with a thin layer, dazzling when they reflected the sunlight. It was a little strange, but he definitely decided he could get used to it.

The other hermits replied, saying they would and not to worry, which brought a little tranquility to Xisuma’s still racing heart. He leaned on the side of the mattress and shut his eyes.

This was going to be a stressful week.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so very much for reading, i hope it lived up to ur expectations and have a lovely morning/afternoon/night!


End file.
